Desolation
by Pheofix
Summary: When Prussia dissolves, no one knows for sure what will happen to Gilbert. Caught in a storm of denial and angst, Roderick does the only thing he knows best- he writes music. Rated T just to be safe; PruAus centric; 4-shot
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic that I've ever actually uploaded anywhere. I apologize for the lack of update, but I'm working as hard as I can on that right now. *le sigh~ You know how life is. Thank you to everyone who's favorited, reviewed, and watched so far. I honestly didn't think this would get any notes, and each time I got an email from FF I started to smile uncontrollably.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia, Prussia would be in every goddamn episode.

Honestly, I don't even own the plot line. One of my fantastic friends came up with it, and we both wrote fanfics on it (her's being far better). So, I dedicate this fanfic to her, for having awesome headcannons, somehow putting up with me, and for letting me play with her hair.

By the description, you're probably not going to touch this fic with a ten foot pole. So, is this a death fic?

**Spoiler Alert:** it's not.

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><p>Gilbert closed his eyes, leaned his chin down, and took a deep, stabilizing breath. He reached over and found Roderick's hand on the bench and gave it a firm squeeze. This was the day Prussia would finally be dissolved. Gilbert had no idea what would happen. Would he disappear like Germania and Holy Rome, or would he be able to choose? Roderick, equally scared, also feared the worst for Gilbert. Roderick took the hand that wasn't clasped to Gilbert's and laid it on his shoulder.<p>

"I thought you said you were awesome! Besides, it would take more than just this to get rid of you. " Roderick really had no idea what would happen, but he didn't like seeing the albino in such despair. Gilbert lifted his head and opened his eyes to offer Roderick a weak smile.

"Yea, I suppose you're all gonna' be stuck with the awesome me." Roderick rolled his eyes and turned away from Gilbert, his hand sliding off the other's shoulder. The other European countries were in the World Meeting Room signing papers that may or may not insure Gilbert's demise. Roderick had signed for Austria yesterday, having decided to be with Gilbert in what might be his last few moments. Roderick really hoped he wouldn't disappear. The Austrian had surprisingly grown to enjoy the albino's boisterous company. However annoying it got, Roderick was glad someone had ever even tried that hard to be his friend. Roderick jolted out of his thoughtful stance when he heard Gilbert let out a loud yawn beside him. _He's probably been up all night, _Roderick thought.

"Lie down, get some rest. I'll still be here when you wake up." Gilbert gave him a grateful smile and stretched out on the cushioned bench, placing his head on Roderick's lap. Roderick awkwardly placed his hand on his head and began to run his fingers through his hair. _This is, he's actually quite soft._ Not that Roderick knew what he expected. The albino was eccentric and bored easily, but he still kept personal hygiene in mind. Pretty soon the Austrian could hear soft, steady breathing coming from the Prussian. _Well, ex-Prussian if everything gets worked out in there. _Roderick looked at the double doors across from where he sat and contemplated running in there and ripping up all of the contracts. Before he had time to even contemplate this absurd idea, the doors opened and the other European nations solemnly walked out. Germany, Ludwig, was first to notice Gilbert's presence and he ran over to him. Roderick, not taking his eyes of the door and too scared to look down and see the ex-nation, gripped Gilbert's hair in his hand. He was still there, wasn't he?

"Did you, uh," he found his voice weak and cleared his throat, "did you finish up the papers?" He looked over at Ludwig who nodded his head. Roderick finally spared a glance down at the Albino before leaning down and giving him a small peck on the head. He didn't really know why he had done it, it just felt right. Germany knelt on the ground in front of Gilbert as the other nations filled out to give them some space. He gingerly laid a hand on his brother's smoothly breathing form and began to try and shake him awake.

"Gilbert? Brother?" Roderick could tell he was trying to hold back tears. "I'm… I'm so sorry." He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against Gilbert's chest and took a deep breath before leaning back up. He placed his hand on Gilbert again and tried shaking him. "Gilbert. Gilbert, wake up." Gilbert was a pretty light sleeper, but seeing's how he hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few days, Roderick figured he was just completely zonked out. Roderick moved the hand that was resting in Gilbert's silver hair and put it on his shoulder.

"Gilbert, wake up. You're still here, you're still with us." Gilbert didn't even seem to react to the noise him and the other German were making. Ludwig looked up at Roderick with fear in his eyes before leaning down to put his ear against his brother's chest. He leaned up and looked at Roderick.'

"He's still breathing." Roderick looked down with concern at the sleeping man and carefully removed his head from his lap so head could stand next to Ludwig. Ludwig grew angry and placed his hands on both of Gilbert's shoulders.

"Gilbert. Wake up! Goddamnit Gilbert, don't worry me- and if this is a prank I _will_ kill you, I swear to god!" Roderick took a few steps back to give Ludwig some space and filled a cup of water from the cooler. He sipped at it to calm himself while Ludwig's frustration grew. Without warning, Ludwig reached back, snatched the cup of water from Roderick's hand, and splashed it on his brother. They both froze for a moment to see if he would wake up before turning to each other. "Roderick, call an ambulance."

The other European nations stood making solemn, idle chat in the lobby of the building, none of them acknowledging what they might have done. They ignored the sirens until they grew closer, stopping outside of their building. Paramedics rushed inside and the nations quickly scurried to the sides of the room to avoid getting in the way. The last pair of emergency nurses carried a stretcher and rushed into the elevator, the others taking the stairs. When all the paramedics had finished filing upstairs, the European nations gawked at where they had stood.

"D-did," Hungary, Elizabetta, stammered, "did we kill him?"

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><p>Roderick tapped his foot nervously against the tiled floor to a steady beat as he nervously drummed his fingers on his legs. He was itching to clean something, play his piano, play his viola- <em>anything<em> was better than this agonizing waiting. Ludwig fared no better. He sat to Roderick's right side and kept an iron grip on the seat's arm rests. His eyes were shut tight and he was trying to focus on his breathing. Roderick had never seen Ludwig in this way before. Ludwig was always calm and composed in any situation, and the brunette felt like he shouldn't be witnessing the blond in such a fragile state.

It seemed like days before a nurse finally came out and called their names. They went back behind the front desk and followed her to a room that seemed too white and cheery for Roderick's liking. Gilbert was lying under the covers of the bed, his silver hair and pale skin making him blend into the sheets. He matched the room too much. _At least he's not covered in blood._ Roderick immediately shook the deranged thought from his head. He was already worried sick, he didn't need to think of such things. He jolted his head up to check the heart monitor. _Wait, Gilbert is alive. Gilbert is still _alive_!_

"So," Ludwig cleared his throat, "is he okay?"

"Well," the nurse said, pulling a clipboard out of a pouch at the end of the hospital bed. "There is good and bad news. Mr. Beilschmidt has no sustained injuries. His vitals are fine, he has no head trauma- frankly, we're confused why this has happened at all."

"What? What is it?" Ludwig asked with a bit too much force, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.

"Mr. Beilschmidt has fallen into a coma. Since there doesn't seem to be any cause we can detect, we think it might be either a 'Persistent Vegetable State Coma' or 'Anoxic Brain Injury Coma'. We really are quite confused about this one." Roderick spoke up.

"But do you know how long he'll be out?"

"Depends- could be a few weeks, could be a year or two."

"T-that long?" Ludwig stuttered.  
>"That's actually mildly short in comparison to some of our other cases. But Mr. Beilschmidt here seems to be in a perfect, healthy condition, so I doubt it'll be too long."<p>

"Is that the good news, then?" Roderick asked, crossing over to the side of Gilbert's bed to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"No," the nurse said, flipping through the papers on her clipboard, "the good news is that, because of his healthy state and non-existent cause for his coma, we are 80% sure he will wake up having suffered little to no brain damage." Roderick sighed and ran his fingers through Gilbert's hair like he had done before. Wary of the tubes running up Gilbert's nose, Roderick leaned in and pressed a kiss to the albino's forehead. For some reason, it just felt right for him to do that- just like back at the office.

Ludwig sank into one of the chairs in the room and massaged his temples.

"I'll give you three sometime alone, then," the nurse said as she put back the clipboard and left the room, closing the door soundlessly behind her. Roderick hadn't even been aware enough to mutter a 'thank you'. He turned to Ludwig.

"At least he's alive, right? They think he's gonna' wake up fine." Ludwig's shoulders started to shake, his face still in his palms.

"You don't… you don't understand," he said, clenching his hair in his hands, "I thought maybe if his symptoms weren't as bad- if he would wake up soon enough- then he'd have a chance."

"Ludwig, what- what are you saying?"

"This is exactly what happened to Holy Rome before _he _disappeared."

The steady beat of the heart monitor faded out of Roderick's realm of consciousness and into white noise. A veil of blackness overtook the edges of his vision, and everything seemed to put itself on pause._Gilbert… is going to die? How… after all we've been through, how could he just… vanish? _Roderick felt a certain pang of despair in his heart that he couldn't quite place reason to. He'd just be losing an old friend, right? Time would move on, right? Even if Roderick didn't know why, he knew that wasn't true. He stumbled over into the other chair in the room, on a wall catty-corner to Ludwig. He faded out of time and lost all perceptions of the world. _I'm going to lose Gilbert? But he's… I…_

_I think I love him…_

That was it. Roderick loved Gilbert. He loved the way Gilbert tried to be his friend even though Roderick knew himself to be a bit of a prick. He loved the way that the Albino could make anyone happy- albeit, probably more than a little frustrated- just by being himself. He loved the way Gilbert would barge into his house during all-hours, raid his fridge for the beer Roderick kept specifically for him, and then would actually sit quietly in the corner of the sun-room if Roderick was playing his piano. He loved how genuine Gilbert was. He loved that, although Gilbert would never admit it, he actually really liked classical music, and took great pleasure in watching Roderick play. Gilbert… Gilbert was the only one in his life that really cared for him anymore. After his divorce with Elizabetta, they remained friends, but things were still awkward. Gilbert had forced himself into Roderick's life, and had filled that gap before Roderick had even noticed. He didn't know why the albino put up with him, but he was sure glad he did. But now… now he would be gone. The one person who actually cared about Roderick would be gone. _I, well I didn't really have anyone before Gilbert came along. Things'll just go back to the way they were, that's all. _No matter how much Roderick lied to himself, he knew that wasn't true. It'd never be the same. And Roderick felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for wanting Gilbert to stay alive just for him.

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><p>Roderick took a cab home, not even noticing himself go through the motions. When he found himself at home, he removed his coat and shoes before stepping into his kitchen and searching through his liquor cabinets. Wine? No, that wasn't strong enough? Scotch? Why did he even own a bottle of scotch, he didn't even like it. Roderick wished he had some hard Russian vodka before thinking about Gilbert's beer. He crossed the kitchen, hesitantly opened the fridge, and eyed the bottled drinks. He had never had one, beer not really being his thing, and wondered how strong they were. He pulled one out of the fridge and used the bottle opener from the drawer next to the fridge to open it. He looked at it and sighed before carrying it to the sun room.<p>

His sun room was like an extra extension of his house, walled with sturdy glass on the sides and ceiling. He had dark wood floors, much like in the rest of his house, and his piano stood main focus in the center of the room. He had an Austrian make, hand-rubbed ebony finished, upright, grand, open top Steinway piano- and it was his pride and joy. He pulled out the black leather bench from the piano, and sat down. Eyeing the drink in his hands, he felt a painful wave of nostalgia overcome him.

_Roderick closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he flexed his hands over the keys of his piano. He positioned his foot over the rightmost pedal, and took one more breath before diving into Chopin's ballade No. 1 in G minor. His slender fingers danced over the keys as his body rocked with the movement of the piece- closer to the piano during pianissimo type dynamics, and further away for a louder sound. He felt the rhythm of the notes reflect through his fingers without even trying. The tempo steady in his head, he didn't even need to open his eyes to check what he was doing. He got lost in the music, carried away with all the feelings in the piece- reflecting his own emotions into it to enhance the feeling of the song and for the added cathartic benefit. Roderick loved times when he could play like this. Whenever he had to play for other people, he always felt he needed to maintain professionalism and wouldn't get as into to the piece versus when he would play alone._

_It was the smell he noticed first. It had to have grown pretty strong to have aroused him from his playing trance. It was a thick alcohol smell, like someone who reeked with liquor. His playing faded out, his slender fingers coming to a rest on top of the keys. He heard movement coming from the door to the room as if someone was trying to hide before Roderick turned. He sighed and faced the door._

_"Gilbert, I know you're out there." Gilbert stepped into the doorway from around the corner and smiled sheepishly._

"_H-hey, Roddy," he said as he nervously took a swig from his beer bottle._

_"Gilbert, I thought you were out clubbing with the trio- what on _Earth_ are you doing here?"_

_"Well Antonio had brought Lovino, and Francis had run into Arthur, so I thought I'd come over here."_

_"If your friends are with their boyfriends, why are you _here_?"_

"_Uh, cuz' you're my boyfriend? Shit- I mean, like, my man-friend? My bro?" Roderick rolled his eyes and then gestured to the drink in Gilbert's hand with his head._

"_And about how many of those have you had?"_

"_A, umm… _reasonable _amount?"_

"_Right," he shook his head and got up from the piano. "It's late enough, why don't we just watch a movie and go to bed?" A small flush covered Gilbert's cheeks, and Roderick couldn't tell if he was blushing or if it was just the alcohol._

"_That'd be nice."_

_The pair changed into pajamas and headed for the living room. Gilbert joked that he should just live in Roderick's house since he came over enough to earn himself his own guest bedroom. Roderick let Gilbert pick out the movie and, to his surprise, he actually picked out a RomCom instead of some horror flic. Roderick leaned on the opposite end of the couch from Gilbert. He started to feel drowsy and let himself sink into the couch._

_Roderick didn't quite know what happened, but he was lying on some sort of moving pillow. The pillow smelt strongly of beer, but it was warm and Roderick was comfortable. He stirred when he felt something soft press to his forehead. He grumbled and moved around, finally blinking his eyes open and looking up. He was confused for a moment, as he saw his albino friend leaning over him._

_"P-Prussia? What are you doing here?" He grumbled, still half asleep. Gilbert chuckled._

_"I guess we both fell asleep during the movie. It's morning." Roderick, finally realizing that he was still lying on the other nation, quickly sat up and smoothed out his shirt._

_"I… I apologize for having slept on you. Had I realized, I would have moved immediately." Gilbert chuckled again and reached over to ruffle Roderick's hair, and flashed him a rare, soft smile instead of his usual shit-eating grin._

_"You're fine, Roddy."_

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><p>Roderick took a deep sigh before chugging half the bottle of beer. It really was quite good. It reminded him too much of the albino, however, and he figured drinking it would make him feel even worse. He got up from his piano and left the room. He crossed through his living room sparring a longing look at his couch and running a hand over the back of it as he passed. He entered his room and set his beer bottle on his night stand. Soundlessly, he stripped to his boxers before climbing under the cool, empty covers and curling into a ball. Roderick let a sob escape his lips, one that he had been holding in since he had left the hospital. It didn't feel as surreal anymore, and Roderick realized he would never have the albino in his company again. No, that wasn't true. Roderick made the decision then that he'd visit his friend in the hospital until he disappeared- however long that would take. But he'd still never get to hear his obnoxious laugh again, or get crushed in a bear hug.<p>

Roderick was in and out of sleep through the night, pillow wet with tears, heart heavy, and dreams full of the doomed albino.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Ugh, I'm sorry about sort of abandoning this fic for a while. I definitely have plans to finish it, but I just haven't been properly inspired lately. I'm on spring vacation right now, and I figured I'd work on it. This chapter is a little rushed, but I hope it lives up to your expectations. The ending is also… meh... But I can always replace it later.

By the way, this fic has gotten quite a bit of views, but only a few have reviewed :/  
>It's fine if you don't, but I especially love those who did- ya'll made me smile so much, goodness gracious~<p>

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><p>When Roderick finally awoke, his body felt like lead. Everything was numb and his breaths were heavy and labored- almost as if his chest couldn't move under the weight of his heart. After lying there for what could've been ten minutes or three hours- time felt irrelevant to him- Roderick sat up, swung his legs off the bed, and stood up. He trudged into the bathroom, avoiding looking at his reflection which he knew would look pale and dead. He turned the shower onto its highest setting, letting the steam fog up the room before stripping and stepping under the scalding spray. He inhaled harshly as the water stung his skin, hitting his back like needles. Without giving himself time to adjust to the temperature, he plunged his head under the spray, letting it coat his entire body. He didn't even realize he was crying until a salty tear dripped into his slightly agape mouth. After enough time had passed to turn his skin red under the boiling droplets, he ran his fingers through his hair a few times and turned off the shower, exiting it.<p>

He dried and threw on some casual slacks and a button up shirt, pulling a cardigan over it. He was already walking out of his room when he thought of how his breath probably smelt of alcohol. He disregarded this detail as unimportant and continued down the hallway. When he reached his kitchen, he called for a cab and sat down at his breakfast table. He eyed the refrigerator uncomfortably, as if even the thought of food would make him be sick. The thought of anything would make him sick, really, at this point. Exhaustion and despair rendered incapable of forming coherent thoughts in his head. Everything he did felt surreal, as if he was watching himself from a third-person view. He saw the cab pull-up through his window, and slipped on some shoes before opening the door and stepping outside, locking the door behind him. He got in the cab and only had to give the man the name of the hospital before he knew where to go. Roderick had a car, but he didn't really feel it'd be safe to drive in this condition. Plus, his ability to get lost anywhere was fairly annoying- or _'hilarious and adorable'_, as Gilbert used to call it. Roderick could almost hear Prussia's voice, muffled by the electric sound of a phone, laughing before agreeing to pick Roderick up from some place downtown that Roderick had managed to get lost in, despite the numerous times he had walked between those tall, concrete buildings. He sighed and rested his head on the window. It was overcast- as he thought it should be- and he briefly thought of the cheery white room Gilbert was staying in with disgust. When the cab pulled up to the hospital, Roderick played the driver and exited the car. He took a deep breath before entering through the main entrance.

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><p>The hospital was bustling with people, and it felt weird seeing people getting upset over other people. <em>They are all losing a great country today, don't they know that? <em> Roderick approached the receptionist, checking in and receiving a visitor's badge before being directed to the coma-ward.

The hallway containing the ward was much quieter than the rest of the hospital, and had a certain air of untouchable uncertainty and pre-arranged doom circling about the occupied rooms full of still people and labored breaths was unnerving. Roderick grimaced, finally locating Gilbert's room among the many. He put a fist up to knock, before laughing dryly at himself and opening the door, pausing before stepping in, closing it softly behind him.

The blankets were around his waist and his head was lolled to the side. His expression was blank, but peaceful. Roderick's face sprouted a small smile- surprising himself from breaking out of the robotic motions he had been stuck in all morning. He pulled a chair up to the side of Gilbert's bed. He ran a hand down the side of Gilbert's cheek before sitting down and scooting closer. It was weird to see Gilbert in such a calm state instead of his usually boisterous self. Roderick leaned in, pausing before pressing a lingering kiss on Gilbert's forehead. As he pulled away he noticed the albino no longer smelled like his musty cologne and usual beer-stench, but like disinfectant and medical grade rubbing alcohol. Roderick thought back to Gilbert's clothes in his guest room- which was really just Gilbert's own room- back at his house. He hoped _they_ still smelt like him. He put his elbows on the bed and rested his chin in his hand. He used his other hand to run his fingers through Gilbert's soft hair.

"Gilbert, what have you done?" He let out a dry chuckle. "Look at what you've turned me into- some old sap. This is all your fault, you know. If you hadn't tried to invade everyone… if you hadn't tried to become my friend." He didn't know why he spoke. It felt silly, like he was talking to himself, but he supposed it felt even more ridiculous sitting in a room that was so quiet that, with the albino's company, should've been loud.

"Ludwig is having a fit, you know. I've never seen him like this. It's even worse than when you two got in the fight over how much time he was spending with Feliciano… You know, I finally tried one of your beers last night. I don't want to admit that it's as _awesome_ as you made it out to be, but it was definitely one of the better beers I've had. It… reminded me of you." He sighed, sitting in silence before speaking again.

"I… I wonder if Ludwig is planning the funeral right now. He'll… probably ask me to play something for the service. I wonder if I'll even go… I just, there's no piece out there that could possibly tell your story best. Vivaldi is too cheery and orchestral based for your type; Mozart is _far_ too cliché and overused to suit you. Wagner, while dramatic enough for you, doesn't accurately display your softer side. You're just," he gave Gilbert's still form a soft smile and pulled his hand out of Gilbert's white hair to stroke his face. "You're just so much more complex than anyone realizes, aren't you? You… you have so many sides to you, you know. I don't even think you realize it, the way you act around your brother. He thinks you're obnoxious, but the way you lightly tease him, the way you're always there for him, but never try to show him your weaker side in return. I've seen some of the smiles you shoot him, and I think you're actually really happy for him and Feliciano. Actually, some of your smiles seem rather… sad- _longing_, almost. Are you jealous of your brother finding love? I think maybe you try to cover that with mock-jealousy for being jealous of the time Feliciano gets to spend with him, but I don't think that's quite it, is it?" He let his hand rest still on Gilbert's cheek. "I think you're… far more complex than even _I_ realize."

Roderick felt far more comfortable in the albino's presence. He was restless all night and morning, but being back in Gilbert's company put him at a sort of ease that almost made him feel… safe. He moved his hand form Gilbert's face to reach down and intertwine with one of his hands, bringing it up closer to his face. He leaned his head down on the bed, using his other arm as a pillow. He let out a deep sigh as if erasing all of the pain he had felt the past night, letting it melt away in Gilbert's presence. While meaning only to rest his head and be close to Gilbert, the Austrian ended up passing into a peaceful sleep, making up for his restless sleep the night before. He squeezed Gilbert's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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><p>Roderick was shaken awake by a firm hand on his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Gilbert's face, which made his heart skip a beat before realizing he still hadn't woken up- and that he wasn't going to. He looked back to see Ludwig giving him a soft, sad smile, his own face dull and tired. Ludwig hadn't slept a single wink last night, and it was apparent all over his face. Roderick realized his hand was still intertwined with Gilbert's and cleared his throat awkwardly as he stood up from the chair, dropping Gilbert's hand and smoothening out his sweater.<p>

"Get any sleep last night?" Ludwig's voice was flat and dry but his concern was genuine.

"A bit." Ludwig pulled a chair next to Roderick's and motioned for him to sit down again. Roderick did so as Ludwig crossed his legs, folding his hands and placing them on his knee.

"So I've been thinking about the funeral," Roderick nodded, "and I was wondering if you could provide accompaniment for the ceremony. I'm sure that's what Gilbert would have wanted." Roderick had seen this coming, yet he still didn't know how he felt about it.

"May I," his voice sounded weak so he cleared his throat. "May I think on it?"

"Of course," Ludwig nodded understandingly. Roderick stood up and began pushing his chair back to the wall.

"I'll, uh, give you some time alone with your brother, then. I'll be back in an hour or so. Do you want me to get anything for you from the café downstairs? A coffee?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Roderick nodded as he turned on his heels and left the room, sparing Gilbert one last lingering glance before closing the door behind him.

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><p>The main lobby of the hospital was still bubbling with people. Roderick quickly dodged through the crowd to the café where he joined the line. He thought of how weird it was to feel so peaceful in Gilbert's presence. As soon as he had left the room, the earlier feeling of dread had come crashing back full force. He thought of Gilbert all alone up in his room. Well, not alone, Ludwig was with him, but where was he in his mind? He had heard of coma patients that were stuck in white rooms in their heads. He briefly considered the idea that Gilbert could hear everything they were saying and feel every touch, but he quickly disregarded the idea as being hopeless and pointless. <em>It's not like he's going to wake up to either reject me <em>or_ return my feelings._ He sighed morbidly. _But, I guess I wouldn't want him to… die without knowing. It, it's healthy to get it off my chest, anyways_. No matter how he worded it, he knew he just liked talking to the albino. It was awkward sitting in silence in a room with someone who was usually so full of life. Roderick decided he'd keep talking to him if only wishing for that small fragment of the chance that Gilbert could hear him.

"He-hello? Sir?" Roderick snapped out of his trance and snapped his head up to look at the cashier. "Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, uh yes please," he cleared his throat, "do you have anything that's strong but not too bitter?"

"Yea- something sweet like a mocha or something more like a breakfast brew?"

"A, uh, a mocha sounds great- medium's fine, that's all." He pulled out his wallet and handed the lady his card as she rung up his drink.

"It'll be ready for you at the other end of the counter in just a moment." Roderick thanked her and stood by the counter. When his drink was ready he picked it up and surveyed the array of tables- most full. An inner voice of his was telling him that he was not acting very composed today, and needed to get his act together and clean up- Gilbert or no Gilbert. Roderick shook his head at this but nevertheless exited the hospital to sit outside on a bench to try and clear his mind with the fresh air.

It was still overcast, but Roderick's sweater was thick and he was used to the cold. He sat down on a bench and crossed his legs. He eyed the coffee before begrudgingly taking a sip to test the temperature. The coffee wasn't too bad and it wasn't too hot, so he took a larger drink, gulping it down.

A breeze shook nearby trees, and leaves started tumbling down. It was the beginning of fall and some leaves were starting to change colors as others simply died and fluttered to the ground on the next gust of wind. Roderick took a deep breath in, letting it go before taking another gulp of his coffee. It was quiet outside, much unlike the bustle of people inside the hospital. Although Roderick liked this silence better, it made him feel trapped inside his own head, where instead of being able to push his thoughts aside under the roar of the people, they were screaming for attention inside of his head. These current thoughts were rambling about the funeral. He was lying to himself if he said he didn't want to go to the funeral. But even if he agreed to accompany the service, what would guarantee that he would be emotionally stable throughout the service? Knowing him, he'd probably break down at the piano, a puddle of tears before the other nations. Even though that could be argued as a valid reason, it felt like a petty excuse inside of his head. Roderick uncrossed his legs, setting his coffee next to him on the bench. He put his head in his hands, heaving another sigh. _Even… even if I was to play something, what would I play? As cheesy as it sounds, there's nothing that could capture Gilbert accurately enough. I, I could just play typical funeral music- even something like Beethoven's Funeral March. _But Roderick knew that wouldn't feel right. He sighed gain and rubbed his face with his hands.

Roderick felt a firm hand clasp his shoulder. He quickly turned to see Ludwig standing behind the bench.

"Sorry," his tone was gruff, "I just saw you out here and wanted to see if you were okay. I'm heading back home, now."

"Oh, uh, yea, I'm fine." Roderick took another sip of his coffee as if to prove he was in working order.

"I don't need an answer now, but did you put any thought on the song thing?"

"Y-yea… I'll do it" Roderick surprised himself with the answer. Had he decided on this? Well, he sure as hell didn't want anyone _else_ playing at Gilbert's funeral, so he'd figure something out. A small smile sprouted on Ludwig's face and he patted Roderick's shoulder with his hand.

"I'm glad to hear that, I know Gilbert would want this." Roderick nodded staring down at his hands in his lap. Ludwig gave his shoulder another pat before walking into the parking lot. Roderick drained the remainder of his coffee and stood up. He threw his cup in a bin before walking back inside.

The wave of noise hit him once again, but this time it didn't seem to bother him as much. He walked back to the coma ward, flashing his visitors badge to the security guard before entering the hallway, this time walking straight to Gilbert's room.

A smile instantly grew on Roderick's face as he stepped into the room. Being in Gilbert's company, even if the Prussian was out of it, was just… it felt right. He again pulled a chair up to the side of Gilbert's bed and sat down, leaning on the bed. He rested his head in his left hand and used his right to swipe away a piece of Gilbert's hair that was hanging in his eyes. His hand lingered on Gilbert's skin, and he stroked his cheek before pulling his hand away.

"I'm going to play at your funeral, you know. Knowing you, you'd rather play club music and have everyone do shots, but I think I can find something nice to play," He chuckled softly. "What would _you _like? You seemed to like Chopin- or maybe even Debussy, that might be nice." He sat for a few moments in silence, smiling down at Gilbert and just enjoying his presence.

"Hey, you know, you probably can't hear me, but I, uh, I have to tell you something." He rubbed his neck nervously. "This may come as a bit of a shock? I don't know, I just figured it out for myself, anyways. Uh, so the deal is, well, I sort of like you." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Like, you know, _like _like you. God I sound like a love sick teenager…" He stood up from the chair and began to pace about the room. "I just, I… yea… I like you… Okay, I guess that wasn't as hard as I thought." He chuckled, standing on the other side of Gilbert than where his seat was and stroked Gilbert's hair. "I guess it wasn't that hard to say. I mean, it helps that you can't respond with some witty comment." Someone knocked on the door before opening it up. A nurse peeked her head in, smiling, and Roderick immediately retracted his hand from Gilbert's head, smoothing out his sweater nonchalantly.

"Hello. I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over now, you have another ten minutes and then I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Roderick thanked her and she pulled her head out of the door way, closing it.

Roderick stared where she had been, for a moment, before turning back to Gilbert. Instinctively, he leaned down, kissing Gilbert's forehead. It felt right, and even if Gilbert didn't know he had done it, he wanted to for his own sake. A tune came into Roderick's head and he started humming as he stroked Gilbert's cheek with the back of his hand. "Don't worry, I think of something to play." After a minute, he froze. He tested the tune again, running through it with his fingers in the air like an invisible keyboard.

"This… this would be perfect for you… Gilbert, I, I think I'm going to write your funeral song." A wide smile grew on his face and he pecked Gilbert on the forehead one last time before running out of the room. He dodged nurses, other patients, and visitors as he walked quickly out of the hospital, hailing a cab. He tried to keep the tune in his head, refusing to let it escape when it sounded so perfect.

He gave his address to the driver, drumming his fingers on his legs to the beat in his head as he rode home. He would write the perfect song for Gilbert; he would make sure his story was told.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey there! God, I'm so sorry. I really will finish this, I swear on me mum. I just, ya know, haven't been inspired. I have to be in a certain mood to write fics like this, so I can't just work on it whenever. The last chapter should be up soon, though, since I'm been in this mood for the past couple of days. So, I mean, I might as well take advantage of it, right!? _

Since it's been so long, I'd advise re-reading the previous chapters so you're not confused as to what's happening.

Enjoy~!

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><p>When the taxi pulled up to his house, Roderich pulled out a few twenties, throwing them at the driver and telling him to keep the change. Roderich strode out of the car, closing the door swiftly behind him. The taxi driver spared no time driving away before Roderich could have time to reconsider letting him keep the generous tip.<p>

The second the taxi pulled away, all went quiet again. All his excitement about writing Gilbert's song had vanished, along with the talk of the people in the hospital and the hum of the highway. A soft wind ruffled Roderich's hair as he stood looking up at his house, thinking about how empty it looked- how empty it _felt_. Suddenly he didn't want to go inside anymore. Roderich wanted to go straight back to the hospital and lie his head down on Gilbert's arm again, humming his tune and sitting in his presence and feeling the calm and safe he hadn't felt since the signing of Prussia's demise until he was back with his albino in the hospital. No matter if Gilbert was awake or not, his effect on Roderich was still evident.

Roderich didn't want to be alone. If Roderick went inside and wrote Gilbert's song, that'd be like confirming Gilbert's death- setting it in stone, re-signing the contract to demolish his country. As he begrudgingly trudged up the steps to his front door, Roderich thought about how his house would continue to feel empty long after Gilbert's funeral, and how it had felt empty long before Gilbert's arrival.

Hands slightly trembling, Roderich unlocked his door, stepping inside. As he closed it he realized that it was even quieter inside without even the hushed whisper of the wind. Roderich removed his coat, hanging it on the hat stand next to his door and switching on the lights. He removed his shoes before stepping into the kitchen. His padded footsteps and shallow breaths resounded through the kitchen, the noise bouncing against the walls and back into his head, reminding him of how alone he was now. He started to head towards his sun room, quickening his pace when he felt he was being followed by the empty loneliness that had consumed his house and soon, him. When he reached the sunroom, he shut the door and closed the shutters over the glass walls, hiding the stormy, grey clouds sagging heavy with rain.

Roderich sat on the leather piano bench, eyeing the door to make sure it was closed, hiding away the loneliness of the rest of his house, ghosted with only memories instead of people.

Instead of Gilbert.

Everything still felt so surreal, and he was waiting- hoping, praying- that this was all some terrible dream, and he'd wake up with Gilbert in the next room, making fun of him for getting so worked up over a silly nightmare.

Sighing, Roderich lifted the piano's key cover, resting his fingers en pointe on the ebony keys. Squeezing his eyes shut, blocking away the emptiness, Roderich began to play. Every few bars he'd open his eyes just wide enough so he could scribble down his playing onto empty ledger lines.

In this world he had created behind his closed eyes, Gilbert had taken embodiment in his song. This world told of his many adventures, many mistakes, and many achievements. Behind his eyes, Roderich painted a reenactment of Gilbert's life, coloring with the smooth curvature of notes and dramatic uprisings in dynamics. Behind his eyes, Gilbert slayed enemies with a crescendo, standing victorious over quarter notes, and conquering lands with trickery time signatures and sixteenth note runs. Behind his eyes he saw Gilbert raise his brother with soft pitches held up by stern bass notes. Behind his eyes he saw Gilbert forcing himself into Roderich's life with a quick capriccio, slipping in between serious phrases with its lighthearted foolery. Behind his eyes he saw his own love start to bloom for Gilbert, a rubato present in his own life of seriousness, an intermezzo highlighting the change that even he couldn't see for quite some time. Dropping suddenly, a ritenuto illustrates Gilbert being torn away from his county, his people, his friends... _Roderich_. Suddenly, after everything that has happened, after all the great gains and losses, he is just… gone- vanished. The song which once held such joy and story is reduced to a quiet hum, missing the before grandeur it once had. The notes plunk around in confusion, trying to grasp something that's not there, drawing a picture with no lines. The song ends in a last hopeful cadence, proving that, even if the story isn't continued, it is still great.

As Roderich's fingers come to rest against the keys, he leans his head down against the piano, not noticing the flow of tears escaping his eyes until his shoulders had begun to tremble and he his hands had somehow found their way to grasping and pulling at his hair in frustration.

This was so unfair. All of this was so unfair. Roderich had taken Gilbert's friendship for granted for all of their time together, never truly appreciating it until it was gone, torn from him like a life support he didn't know he was on. Through his heavy sobs and moaning cries, all Roderich could think of was Gilbert lying in that hospital bed all alone and all quiet. He was alone, now, too.

Roderich stood from the bench, steadying himself by placing a hand on the piano. He was reduced to sniffles and silent trailing tears by the time he had stumbled off into his room. Not even bothering to remove his clothes, Roderich fell face-first on the bed, letting dark, dreamless sleep numb him from the pain as the surreal façade of Prussia's demise was crushed underneath the weight of his heart.

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><p>Roderich awoke with his eyes still closed a couple of hours later. He cracked them open awaiting the pain of sunshine to find it was still fairly dark. Rolling over, Roderich read the time on his alarm clock as half past three in the morning. Roderich swung his legs over the edge of his bed, seated as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulling it off with a sigh. He stood to remove his pants, not even noticing the bruise left on his skin from his belt buckle digging into him during the night. Roderich cast his worn, wrinkled clothes to the floor before trudging into the bathroom. He turned on his shower, adjusting the temperature before stepping in, immediately letting the water overtake his entire body. Roderich breathed through his mouth, letting rogue drops of water roll over his tired eyes, down his tear-stained cheeks, and into his agape mouth. He didn't think twice before washing himself with Gilbert's shampoo, quietly relishing in the comforting smell of his only friend.<p>

When Roderich exited the shower, he lightly towel dried his hair before standing in front of his bathroom mirror. He cocked his head to the side as he reached over the counter and sink, tracing a line in the steam gracing the surface of the mirror, parallel to one of the scars Gilbert had received in a battle with Austria. Roderich thought of how even he was to blame for Prussia's demise. Prussia and he had definitely had their quarrels, but Gilbert had still stuck with him… had still been his friend. He didn't even deserve someone like Gilbert, Roderich thought as he wrapped a towel around his waist and retreated back to his room, running a hand over the mirror to wipe away the disgrace he had committed against his one and only friend.

Roderich stepped into a fresh pair of boxer briefs before leaving his room. He didn't know where he was headed until he found himself lying in the center of Gilbert's bed, holding one of his pillows to his chest. He buried his nose in it, deeply breathing in the comforting smell of that obnoxious, amazing Prussian as a few lone tears he didn't know he had left in him, dripped out of his eyes before they were absorbed into the pillow, mingling the feelings of companionship and loneliness together.

It wasn't as good as lying against the Prussian in the hospital- and nowhere _near_ as good as the awake Prussian- but hugging the pillow, Roderich was able to close his eyes and imagine Gilbert lying with him, reassuring him that everything would be okay. He breathed in deep, picturing the albino's arms wrapped around him, picturing their legs tangled together between the sheets. He could almost picture himself feeling perfectly safe and content in Gilbert's arms, but the smell of the pillow wasn't strong enough to overpower the knowledge that Gilbert's funeral would be in a few days and, as his scent faded from his room in Roderich's house, Roderich would be lost to the sadness forever.

Caught in a web of false security, Roderich was able to drift into an dreamless sleep until morning, clutching Gilbert's pillow tightly to his chest.

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><p>When Roderich awoke, he almost thought he was, in fact, snuggled up to Gilbert after having a horrible nightmare. But he was still alone clinging on to false trails of happiness. He sighed deeply, having no more tears left in him, before getting up and casting Gilbert's pillow to the bed with a longing glance. He went back to his own room, putting on some fresh clothes and brushing his hair before sitting down in the kitchen to call a taxi. As he was waiting, he received a call from Ludwig.<p>

"Roderich?"

"Yes?" His voice sounded weak and he cleared his throat. "Yes?" He repeated, a bit stronger this time.

"How are you?"

"Oh, well I'm, uh, I'm alright I suppose." That was a lie. "How are you?" Roderich didn't like this small talk, it felt too normal and made him feel like they were already trying to forget about Gilbert.

"I haven't slept at all, really. I actually called because I needed to tell you something." Roderich sat straight up in his chair.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I... um," he paused causing Roderich's breath to hitch in worry. "Well, It's about Gilbert." Roderich took a shaky breath.

"Y-yes?" Roderich stood up from his chair and began pacing about the kitchen, fisting his hand in his hair. "What's happened?"

"Well, he's…"

"What!?" Why wouldn't Ludwig just spit it out already!?

"Gilbert is, well… he's d-" Roderich didn't give Ludwig time to finish his sentence before he threw the phone against the wall, sinking to the floor against the fridge.

It was all over.

Everything.

Roderich had one last, tiny sliver of hope left, but now it would be buried alongside Gilbert's body.

His face was buried in his knees and his shoulders were shaking violently.

_Gilbert is gone._

_Gilbert is dead._

Roderich threw his head back against the fridge and let out a deafening wail. His piercing sound of agony filled every nook and cranny in the empty house, falling quickly like the rain outside before flooding him with absolute misery and covering his surroundings in a thick, foggy shroud of wretchedness.

When the taxi honked signaling its arrival, Roderich wasted no time, slipping on shoes and running out the door, barely remembering to lock it behind him.

The cabby wasted no time asking questions as tear-stained Roderich entered the taxi, throwing money at the man and telling him to get to the hospital as fast as he could.

The cabby didn't disappoint as he weaved through traffic, making it to the hospital in record time as Roderich curled into fetal position in the back seat, his sobs muffled to the driver through the noise of the radio and the muffling effect of the privacy window.

When they reached the hospital, Roderich wiped his face with his sleeve before dashing out of the taxi and into the sterile, white building, flashing his visitors badge at the security guards before they might dare try to stand in his way.

Roderich took the stairs two at a time, no patience for an elevator as the thought of his love dying floors above him plagued his mind. Roderich tried to concentrate on the burning in his calves rather than the dead weight in his heart as he forced the image of Gilbert's lifeless body out of his mind.

Roderich raced around corners, dodging nurses and carts as he made it to the coma ward. He used his shoulder to slam open the double doors of the wing, not stopping to apologize as he overturned a tool cart with his haste and misplaced steps.

Screeching to a halt outside of Gilbert's room, Roderich flung the door open to see the Prussian that wasn't there.

The room was empty.

Gilbert was gone.

Roderich's heart dropped like a rotted grandfather clock in an abandoned house- his heart skipping one… two… three beats before clattering to the floor in a way that was both unfortunate yet bound to happen.

He reached back an arm to grab the nearest passing nurse.

"What," he panted, "what happened to the patient in this room?" The nurse stared at him oddly before checking the charts on the door.

"I'm sorry, sir, he's been… discharged."

Roderich let go of the woman's sleeve as he sunk to the floor unconscious.

_Gilbert is gone._

_Gilbert is gone._

_Gilbert is dead. _


End file.
